


The Price of Fame

by orphan_account



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 10:45:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6114093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine months after their sexcapades at Cannes, Cat and Kara, now in a semi-undeclared relationship, find themselves reunited with Cate Blanchett at the Oscars.</p><p>A sequel to "A Competent Assistant".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stock in Trade

“Champagne, ladies?”

Kara smiled at the tuxedoed waitress and took two glasses from her tray, handing one to Cat.  She looked around the room, bathed in that honey-colored shade of light that seemed particular to these sorts of events; everyone looked more glamorous, the colors of their sumptuous formal wear somehow richer, the sparkle of their jewelry sharper.  Cat had waved hello to Michael Eisner, Quentin Tarantino and Ice Cube, and they were currently wrapped up in a conversation with the Jolie-Pitts about their work opening schools in third world countries.  Par for the course at an Oscar night pre-party.  The last time Kara had been in a room with this many famous people had been at Cannes.

Cannes was also the last time she and Cat had seen Cate.  The three of them spent a sensuous four days on the French Riviera, and although Cate had been the driving factor, Cat and Kara had gone home together viewing each other differently.  They weren’t calling it a relationship exactly, but neither of them was sleeping with anyone else, and Kara turned up with Cat at all those functions that Cat would be bringing a date to, and they held hands in public sometimes and it was comfortable.  

Kara was curious to see, though, whether the ease of their routine would still be welcoming to a third party.  She hadn’t broached it, since discussions of intimacy usually were prickly, and Cat was brusque, and Kara had to be in the mood for that.  But the anticipation and unanswered questions were bundled up in a jittery ball in her belly.

Cat was the first to spy her, lingering near the bar with a vodka tonic and her arm around Rooney Mara’s waist.  Kara knew of course that she’d been nominated tomorrow night, and that it was for a role in which she and Rooney played a couple.  And she knew of course that Cate was exactly the sort of brat who would be prone to do things exactly like what she was doing just now—leaning over to murmur seductively into Rooney’s ear and run her hand down the younger actor’s bare arm as she chatted with the small group ringed around her regal presence.  She was exactly the sort of scamp to play to everyone’s secret desires for two leads in a romance to be real-life lovers too.  Still though, Kara couldn’t help thinking that their affection seemed genuine.  Rooney really did look at her in a way that registered as a bit lovestruck, and Cate really did seem to enjoy being joined at the hip with her.

“Do you think all that’s for real?”  Kara whispered as they made their way over.

Cat pursed her lips.  “She’s an actor, who knows?”  Clearly, Cat was trying to determine the same thing.  

“Rooney looks like she really likes her, though, don’t you think?”  Kara had a special empathy in her heart for the notion of the ingenue nursing feelings for a charismatic older woman.  


Cat was frustratingly opaque.  “Mm,” she answered noncommittally.

And then she flicked those lights on, the ones behind her green eyes that made her suddenly more electric.  “Catie!” she called from about twenty paces away.

Kara found herself following in Cat’s wake, not unlike the way she did last May at Cannes.  It was as if their entire dynamic had swept right back to then.

Cate glanced away from her conversation and her eyes lit on them, and Kara saw her look pleased in an entirely different way than she had a moment ago.  Kara was well familiar with Cate’s ability to make every person she talked to feel like they were the only other person in the room, but nonetheless, her friendship with Cat had been special enough to endure years and distance.  The sex may have been casual, but their friendship wasn’t.  “Cat!  Kara!” she exclaimed.  

She detached herself from Rooney’s waist and moved through the crowd toward them, positively glowing in a white cocktail dress that clung to her slim shape.  The dusting of spangles over its sheer shoulders crept down onto her chest in a way that Kara couldn’t help finding both elegant and a little suggestive.  They exchanged a round of careful air kisses to each other’s cheeks, trying not to smear their own lipsticks or leave marks on each other’s immaculate makeup.

Kara felt that warmth in her gut, that slight weakness in her knees, that she always did around Cate.  “Hi Cate,” she said, a little shyly.  

Cate had a light hand resting on each of their cheeks, and she stood beaming at them.  “I was so glad when I heard you’d be coming to this thing tonight.  It gets so busy at the big show, I was worried I might not see you.”

Kara wanted to ask about Rooney.  She really really did.  She couldn’t, though.  

Cat was looking warmly at Cate, and Kara felt one of Cat’s wiry arms wind itself around her waist.  She watched Cate, those seductive, intelligent eyes, taking in the minutiae of their body language.   She wondered what Cate made of Cat’s possessiveness.  

Cat peered past Cate’s shoulder at Rooney.  “You two make quite the striking sight.”  She paused, looking at Cate’s white dress and then at Rooney’s black one, spangled in a similar way.  “Did you coordinate the outfits that way on purpose?”

Cate laughed, that sparkly, too-bright laugh when she found something funnier than it ought to be.  “Good God, no!  Did you two?”  

Kara was about to protest that Cat’s dress was really blue, whereas her own was more green, but Cat again was steering the conversation.  “Coordinate?  I dressed her.”

Cate leaned in conspiratorially and stage-whispered to Kara, “That offer still stands, you know.  Just tell me and I’ll whisk you away.”

Kara placed a hand over Cat’s as it rested against her hip, giggling a little.  “I like my slave-driver, but thank you.”

But Cat remained on point.  “So, Catie, will we be seeing you and Rooney later?”

Cate’s eyes lingered on Cat’s face for a moment.  “No, no… Rooney’s going back to the hotel after this for her beauty rest, I imagine.”  Her eyes flickered back and forth between their faces.  “We’re… not actually here  _ together _ , you know.”

Cat nodded once, quietly, glancing back at Rooney, who’d gotten caught up in a conversation with Idris Elba.  Cat caught sight of him and seemed suddenly anxious to find a different part of the room to hang out in.  “I see.  Well, you certainly do look happy … not-together.”  She winked, and then squeezed Kara’s elbow, swirling her glass of champagne in her other hand.  “Come on, darling, I see Marty Scorsese and I desperately need to speak to him.”  She looked back at Cate.  “See you later?”

“Text me when you’re leaving,” Cate replied, and she slipped back over to Rooney’s side.

“They’re not together,” Kara murmured with disbelief, looking back over her shoulder as she and Cat moved across the room toward the corner Martin Scorsese was in.  She couldn’t get over  how couple-y they were being.

“Yes,” Cat sighed, “but it doesn’t tell me anything.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Not together doesn’t tell me anything.  It could mean that whole show they’re putting on right now is just that – a show– and they can’t stand each other.  Or it could mean they’re having an undeclared ‘thing’ that they aren’t calling a thing.”  She ignored the pointed look Kara gave her at this.  “Or it could mean that they’re friends with benefits–”

“Like the two of you?”  Kara put in archly, suddenly feeling anxious.  The drink and the electricity of the evening was making her bolder than usual.

“Like the  _ three _ of us,” Cat corrected.

Kara flushed a little.  “So you  _ did _ want to… do that again.”

Cat looked at her as if she was an idiot.  “Of course.  Unless you don’t want to.”

“No no!”  Kara answered, probably a bit too quickly.  “I… I do.  I just didn’t know if you did.”

“I do,” Cat answered.  “I’m just not clear on whether she’s available for it or not.”

“Well, I mean…”  Kara floundered as they drew closer to Martin Scorsese and were going to have to wrap up this conversation.  “Can’t you just ask her?”

Cat rolled her eyes.  “Christ, Kara, you can’t just ask someone if they’re available for a three-way.”  

She downed the rest of her champagne and set it on the tray of a waiter who was roving by, and fixed her eyes on Scorsese, who was already looking at her with his sharp, wild eyes.  “Cat Grant!  And you brought your lovely assistant I see, too, for a bonus.  And it’s not even my birthday!”

  
  
  


******

  
  


Later that night in their room, Cat’s phone buzzed on the nightstand.  Cat had tried texting as they were leaving, but Cate hadn’t replied, so Cat had contented herself with a bucket of champagne and the very, very large bed that awaited them.

But she seemed to be texting back now.  

Kara was naked in bed already, and waiting for Cat, who was just coming out of the shower.  She’d popped the champagne and was lying propped up in bed, drinking hers.  Cat’s was waiting on her nightstand.  Kara liked their away trips; Cat was always a little different, and sometimes even a little more fun, when they were out of town.  She was more willing to get up to mischief, a little more prone to showing her appreciation for Kara and her little quirks and minor talents.  Kara was vaguely hoping Cat might produce some pot again; it didn’t do a damn thing for her, but it certainly relaxed Cat a little.  While Kara liked Cat’s sharp edges, found them exciting, she liked blurring them once in awhile too.

She heard the phone buzz and picked it up.  It was Cate.

_ Sorry I missed you two, my darlings.  The demands of these events.  The price of fame _

Kara considered replying on Cat’s behalf.  She didn’t feel confident about it.  She did it anyway.     
_ Are you famous?  I hadn’t noticed. _

A pause a moment later.  Then the phone buzzed.    
_ (death glare) _

Kara laughed, and then tapped out another missive.   _ That’s my stock in trade thank you _

A long pause.  Then:  
_ I’ll see you tomorrow then? _

Kara thought for a moment about how to answer.  She thought for a moment about identifying herself.  She didn’t.  Instead she pressed on.  

_ Come on Catie it’s not that late _ _   
_ _ Come over _

Another long pause.  Then:  
_ I’m afraid I wouldn’t be very much fun this evening.   _

Kara found this to be a very un-Cate sort of response.  Wasn’t Cate always fun?  Perpetually amused?  She replied:  
_ Don’t be such a pussy.  Come over. _

Cate had said the very same thing to her that fateful night when their Cannes fling had begun.  Kara was hoping it would work.

Just at this moment, Cat came breezing out of the bathroom, wrapped in a thick white robe, and spied Kara on her phone.  “What are you doing?” she demanded, snatching it out of her hands.

“Texting Cate,” Kara answered with a little giggle.

“Ugh, so I see,” Cat responded, unamused.  Kara got up and peered over Cat’s shoulder as she responded:   
_ Sorry, that was Kara.  She thinks she’s fucking funny.  What is it with you two assholes stealing my phone? _

Cate’s reply:  
_ Give Kara my phone number and then we won’t steal your phone anymore. _

Kara almost snorted champagne out of her nose.  Cat glared at her.  She texted back:   
_ Yeah yeah yeah.  Are you coming over or are you and Rooney all tucked in for the night? _

The reply came a moment later, as Kara was pouring a second glass. 

_ I told you Cat we aren’t actually together.  I’m just too enervated for sin this evening darling.  I’m sure you understand. _

Cat folded her arms and put the phone back into her purse.  “Well,” she sighed, “I’m afraid you and I are just going to have to amuse ourselves, this evening.”

Kara smirked.  “I’m sure we’ll manage.”

  
  


*****

 

The hallmark of Cat and Kara's semi-declared relationship was the layers they left undiscussed.  Though they both depended on one another in many ways, Cat preferred not to label it.  Kara was absolutely not her “girlfriend,” “lover,” “paramour,” or anything else.  Her aunt Astra had once made the error of referring to Cat as Kara's “lady” in Cat’s presence, and Cat gifted her afterward with a rant about how this was not the seventies and no, she did not like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.  Kara developed an instant aversion to Rupert Holmes that day.

And the fact that Kara could easily carry Cat over her shoulders and routinely broke furniture during sex was also conveniently ignored.  

But the one place Cat was great about communicating was in bed.  As they lay entwined on the enormous mattress, making love somewhat distractedly, Cat finally took Kara gently but firmly by the chin, and whispered, “You wish she was here, don't you?”

She didn't seem angry.  It was a question, nothing more.  “I do,” Kara admitted, unflinching as she stares back into Cat’s eyes.  “Don't you?”

Cat nodded.  “I do.”  She kissed Kara softly, and resumed toying softly with her breast, running her thumb over and around the nipple as she spoke.  “What do you miss most?”

Kara bit her lip, but didn't hesitate.  “Her mouth.  She's so delicate with it.”

Cat made a little approving sound, and kissed Kara, seeming to want to give her something slower and sweeter than usual.  Kara parted her lips, thinking of the first time Cate had kissed her, and her mouth dropping open at the sumptuous brush of her lips.

“What about you?” Kara mumbled into Cat’s mouth after a moment.

Cat paused, slowly working her mouth down Kara's neck as she considered it.  “Honestly,” she decided after a moment, “I enjoyed watching you fuck her.”

The words dropped into the bed where they sat on the pillow next to Kara’s stunned face.  “Really?”

Cat nodded.  “When I slept with her before, it was lovely of course, but I was working, so to speak.  Watching you do it, I was able to sit back and just appreciate how…”  She slid herself down Kara’s body a little more.  “...gorgeous she looks when she’s enjoying herself.”

Cat’s mouth closed over one of Kara’s nipples and her rough tongue and the rasp of her teeth, combined with the vivid memory of Cate coming in her arms in the hot tub on the terrace in Cannes, made a little jolt of pleasure spring up between her legs and go easing up her spine.  Her fingers tangled in Cat’s hair.  “What else do you miss about her?” she asked, her eyes half-closing.

Cat pondered as she sucked at Kara’s breast a moment more, then worked down, licking and kissing more softly across her ribs.  “I miss her being here to help me please you,” she decided, pausing to look up at Kara.  

Kara wilted a little at the thought.  She recalled their first time together and how staggeringly effective Cat and Cate had been when they combined their efforts.  She felt Cat moving down her body, her tongue leaving a warm, wet trail.  She could almost feel Cate beside her, kissing her mouth and neck, fingers toying with her stiff nipples.  Kara’s hand drifted to her own breast, and a moan escaped her lips as she played with it, remembering the way Cate had done it.

“What about you?” Cat asked quietly, “What else do you miss?”

“How gentle she was with me,” Kara answered after a moment’s hesitation. 

Cat laid a soft kiss inside her thigh before looking up asking, “Am I not gentle enough?” she asked, seeming a bit concerned about this, as if it was the first time she’d considered it.

Kara smiled gently and raked her fingers through Cat’s hair.  “I like the way you are,” she said carefully.  “But I liked the way she was, too.  She said such nice things to me.”

Cat softly teased the inside of Kara’s thigh, and then breathed a hot, gentle breath against her pussy, urging her to open.  “What did she say?” she asked, her voice seeming to come from somewhere low in her chest.

“She called me clever girl when I made her… when I made her come,” Kara answered, her voice hitching a moment in her throat at the warmth of Cat’s breath tantalizing her.  

Cat made another little approving noise.  “She did,” she recalled, laving her tongue along the seam where Kara’s thigh met her hip bone.  “Clever girl,” she repeated, and Kara was surprised at the accuracy with which Cat was able to mimic her accent.  

Kara sighed a little, and moaned.  If she closed her eyes, she could almost believe it was Cate.  But Cat was already moving on. 

“Did you like hearing that you were clever?”  She lowered her head and placed a light, wet kiss against Kara’s clit.  Kara shivered.

“Uh-huh,” she moaned, and lifted her head to look down the the plane of her cut abs.

“You’re very clever,” Cat whispered, and kissed again.

Kara moaned, and curled her hips upward toward Cat’s mouth. 

“You were so good at pleasing her.  You made her look so gorgeous, darling,” Cat went on, and dipped in, slowly dragging her tongue up through Kara’s wetness, seeming to drink in the elongated sighs escaping her lips.  “You made me so proud that we invited you to bed with us.”

Kara felt her stomach drop and she sighed again, feeling the sudden weight of weakness descend on her.  Cat was being so gentle, trying to give her what she missed.  The glorious heat of her mouth, slow and wet, was driving the tension in Kara’s belly higher.  

“My competent assistant,” she went on, after a quiet moment of licking her.  “My clever girl.”

Kara’s breathing thickened as she realized something else; the things that Cat missed most about having Cate here were entirely to do with watching everyone else get off.  It ran counter to every thought Kara had about Cat being self-absorbed.  Not that she wasn't, but there was more to her than that.  


“You like being spoken to this way, don’t you?”  Cat observed, her tongue becoming more focused, the tip of it torturing Kara’s clit in delicious circles, still so slow, so soft.

Kara gripped the sides of the mattress.  “Oh….” she sighed.  “Yes…”

Cat’s lips closed gently around Kara’s clit and sucked, and Kara’s fingers let go of the mattress, her hands running over her own body.  One hand slipped up to her own mouth to contain her keening, and she bit down on it.  

It was almost as good as having her there, Kara thought.  They both felt Cate’s presence despite being two instead of the three they’d been hoping for.  Kara felt Cat’s gentle sucking release for just a moment to murmur, “Good girl,” before dipping in again, and pulling her over the edge.

Kara curled her hips upward to push herself in further against Cat’s mouth, and opened her eyes enough to look at Cat’s skin and hair looking soft in the liquid moonlight through the blinds.

“Cat… tell me what you want from me…” she panted.

“You’re giving me what I want,” Cat said, and watched with a pleased expression as Kara dissolved into trembling on the bed.  

But the furniture survived intact.


	2. The Velvet Rope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat and Kara on Oscar night! Will they or won't they reunite with Cate in their usual spectacular fashion?

Never would Kara have imagined herself walking the red carpet.

Now granted, the red carpet was split in half with a velvet rope, and the nominees walked on the left and ran the press gantlet on their way into the Dolby Theater, which was illumined like a Roman temple.  The other guests, including Cat and herself, were shunted off to the right.  Kara was suddenly glad to have attended that post-rehearsal cocktail party last night, just for the extra practice of being in such an absurdly glamorous atmosphere.  While they weren’t barraged with photographers like those on the other side of the velvet rope, Kara was more than a little aware of the intermittent pings of photographers’ flashes next to them as they walked toward the theater.

Cat was wearing a garnet-colored Vera Wang number cut close to her body, and Kara couldn’t help but admire her in it.  As fit and shapely as Kara was, she knew even she couldn’t pull off Vera Wang; those slim, economical lines meant business, and Cat had just the right slender, strong body type meant for those dresses.  Kara, feeling unusually gallant, took Cat’s arm and walked beside her. The floor-length, shoulder-wrapped Valentino gown in midnight blue (because Cat seemed to amuse herself with dressing Kara in blue) made her feel taller, more confident.  Maybe, she realized with a little smirk, Cat was doing more than just amusing herself with her insistence on the color.  Maybe she knew it somehow imparted a little echo of the confidence she had when she was wearing the suit.

Because Cat knew who she really was.  They  _ never _ discussed it; they both, for their own reasons,  _ refused _ to.  But Cat knew.

Cat spied Cate on the other side of the velvet rope.  She was, unsurprisingly, beset by photographers and news cameras on all sides, wearing that dazzling smile that had made Kara weak in the knees the first time she’d seen it. Cat grabbed Kara’s upper arm and pulled her over to the rope.  “Come on.”

Kara allowed herself to be pulled.  Both of them were fixated on Cate as she chatted up the reporters with Rooney at her side and a naughty twinkle in her eye that told Kara she was probably flirting with them just as horribly as she did everyone else.  She saw a few people collapse with laughter as Cate said something funny (who could guess what) and placed her hand on Rooney’s ass.  

The strapless bronze Vivienne Westwood gown she wore was some shiny fabric that caught the lights and sensuously followed her curves without revealing too much.  The matching wrap sat strategically just off of her creamy shoulders, and a diamond collar necklace winked above her subtle suggestion of cleavage; that necklace probably cost more than the Danvers’ house in Minnesota.  She was every inch a picture of golden age Hollywood glamor, from her swept-up blonde hair to whatever expensive shoes she was wearing that nobody would ever see underneath that gown.

Somehow, Cate looked past the television cameraman’s shoulder long enough to catch sight of them.  “Cat!  Kara!” she called, smiling her brilliant smile and waving at them.  

Cat pulled them closer to the velvet rope.  “Catie!” Cat called back.  “You look radiant!”

“You too!” she called, and blew them both kisses.

“You look like an Oscar!” Kara joked.  Cate winked at her.  Cat rolled her eyes.  “What?” she demanded, refusing to wilt under Cat’s put-on irritation.  “Because ...bronze.  Come on, it’s funny.”

Cat snorted.

Two security guards came over and gave them a stern, “Please keep moving, ladies.”

Kara registered that they were being hustled along, but then caught sight of two men in tuxes who, despite slicked back hair and formal wear, seemed indefinably nebbishy.  Maybe it was the briefcases they carried.  “How come you’re not hustling those two?”

“Those are the guys from PWC,” the guard answered.  “They can stand and gawk as long as they want.”

“I’ll see you inside!  Meet me by the bar!” Cate called to them as they were hurried along.

“PWC?” Kara whispered to Cat as they headed toward the entrance.

“Price Waterhouse Coopers,” Cat replied.  

“The accountants?”  Kara didn’t understand.

“Yes.  They have the winners’ names in those briefcases.”

“Oh.”

  
  
  


***

  
  


They found the moodily lit bar, but it appeared that Cate had been caught up with press, or prep, or who knew what.  So they made their way to their seats.  The usher led them past several seats that had signs in them with the actors’ names and photographs, and then up into the mezzanine.  The interior of the theater was opulent, cavernous, red and gold, and studded with so many little lights Kara couldn’t count them.  She sat beside Cat, staring around the room and looking at everyone streaming in.  

She kept one ear out for Cate’s voice, hoping she could locate her before the ceremonies started.  She eventually did, but she was, predictably, seated down on the main level, next to Rooney and two rows back from Todd Haynes.  She stole Cat’s phone from her elegant little Kate Spade clutch, and before Cat could object, she’d found Cate’s last text and responded to it:     
_ We see you _

Cate, down below, took out her phone and then looked around, scanning the room for them.

Kara added:   
_ Up in the nosebleeds _

Cate craned her neck back, and Kara waved to her until her eyes found the two of them.  She waved back.

Cat snatched the phone away and scowled at her.  “I swear to Christ, Kara, you really are twelve years old.”

“Well, you seem to like it,” Kara retorted with a cheeky little grin.

The ceremonies started.  The host was a Broadway actress named Laura Benanti, who Kara couldn’t quite place but Cat seemed familiar with.  She strode out onstage in a 1920’s style bugle-beaded flapper dress, a statuesque brunette with incredible legs and a radiant grin.  The opening number was hilarious and glitzy and fun, combining the various themes of the Best Picture nominees and had Benanti twirling around the stage, playing a lesbian astronaut.  And Kara found herself laughing almost nonstop during her monologue.

She opened with, “If it’s true that we’re all just starring in our own movie, I have some recasting I’d like to do.”  A wave of appreciative laughter.  “I'm lucky to be here tonight, though.  I’m still not sure why the Academy turned down my offer to stream my rendition of “I Could Have Danced All Night” from my bathroom.”

“Doesn’t she look like your aunt a little?” Cat whispered.

Kara looked at her like she was insane.  “Not at all.  For starters, she smiles.”

The early awards were the minor technical and lesser known categories that people only half paid attention for.  Kara actually found them mildly interesting (she liked knowing how things worked and who did them) but Cat was tolerating them poorly at best.  Only Benanti’s in-between banter held her interest.  Kara had managed to watch the heartbreaking, gorgeous film that Cate was nominated for, and thought the costumes were lovely in it, but then, she had a weakness for vintage clothes. That weakness increased tenfold for the way that Cate looked in them.  

But for the most part, these earlier awards were hurried through as quickly as possible.  When the sound editing team came forward for their award, they were a posse of six and it took them a little too long to get to the stage.  Not being actors, they weren’t particularly poised and there was a bit of tripping over one another as they sheepishly made their way forward.  “I’ve been in corn mazes that took less time than that walk to the stage, guys,” Benanti kidded, and amazingly, her delivery of that remark was so friendly and lighthearted, they simply nodded in embarrassed agreement.  Kara mused that the same remark in Cat’s mouth would have been entirely different.

Kara found the pageantry of the evening fascinating enough, but clearly Cat was there mostly to watch Cate (hopefully) win Best Actress.  So when she stood up and tugged Kara’s sleeve in between awards, Kara followed her without too much fuss.  They wandered back down to the moodily lit bar, which was mostly populated with people who didn’t win whatever awards had been announced so far.

Cat ordered a bourbon and Kara ordered a blue cocktail with an umbrella in it.

Cat looked at her skeptically.  “Why are you drinking…  _ that _ ?”

“Because it tastes good,” Kara chuckled, trying not to pay too much attention to the fact that Melissa McCarthy was five feet away from her and she didn’t want to admit it to Cat but she was a ridiculous, trashy fangirl for her since she saw The Heat.  She was sometimes starved for things that made her laugh gut-bustingly hard like that. 

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to drink anything that turns anything else  _ blue _ ?”

“I told you Cat, I don’t really get drunk.  I just want it to taste good.”  And damned if blue curacao didn’t taste good.

“It looks like Kool-Aid,” Cat snorted.  “If I’d wanted to bring a twelve year old as my date to the Oscars, I’d have brought Carter.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t get laid afterward, so count your blessings, Cat!”  Kara was in a fairly ebullient mood and Cat’s snark was bouncing off of her skin as easily as bullets.

They heard a deep sigh, and each felt a hand on her bare shoulder.  “Hello, darlings.”

Cat and Kara spun around at the same time to find Cate standing behind them, gazing fondly at them.  “I came out here for a drink, but lucky me!” she remarked.  Standing closer to her, Kara could see the stress subtly lingering in Cate’s face.

They exchanged a careful round of air kisses, and Cat surveyed her face.  “Catie,” she sighed, “you’re not nervous, are you?”

Cate nodded.  “I am, a bit.  I have to present in twenty minutes and all I can think of is my own award.  Par for the course as a narcissist, but still.  Stressful.”  She smirked.  

Cat leaned forward, tipped up onto her toes and whispered something in Cate’s ear.  Cate’s lips curled in a way that made Kara’s stomach go liquid.  “Are you sure?”

Cat nodded.  “We are, if you are.”

“Come this way, please.”  Cate gave them her feline grin, took their hands and started leading them through the theater, down the Winner’s Walk, the long, cavernous hallway lined with photographs of all the Best Picture winners, toward the flight of stairs that led to the dressing rooms on the second floor.

“Cat?”  Kara asked.

“We’re going to her dressing room,” Cat answered breezily, but very quietly.

“Because…?”

“Because we’re going to help her relieve her stress.”

“Oh.”  She didn’t understand at first.  Then she did.  “ _ Oh _ .”  Then she let herself think about it too long.  “OH.”

  
  


***

  
  


Cate stood in front of the lit vanity mirror, regarding her reflection, her clear, sly eyes staring out of the mirror back at Cat and Kara, standing on either side of her.  “I wasn’t sure there was still room for me between you two,” she purred.

“Catie, don’t be ridiculous, there’s more room for you in between the two of us than there is in this dressing room,” Cat scolded. “We wondered if maybe this was Rooney’s job.”

Cate laughed, caught Cat’s hand, and very carefully took a finger between her teeth and nipped at it.  “Not.  At.  All,”  she answered.

Cat delicately took Cate’s wrap from her shoulders and breathed an appreciative sigh at the sight of Cate’s bare back.  She ran her glossy, manicured nails down the exposed skin and Cate breathed a sigh.  “We have to be careful,” Cat said, mostly to Kara.  “We can’t ruin her makeup or her hair or her dress.  And preferably, we should try not to ruin ours either.”

Kara nodded in understanding, the honeysuckle scent of Cate’s perfume suddenly becoming especially strong in her senses, tickling at the back of her throat and making her almost hungry.  She silently watched Cat’s hands, lightly trailing over Cate’s back, and watched the skin on Cate’s arms burst to life with goosebumps.  Kara knew that touch of Cat’s – she didn’t use it often, but when she did, it made her wet faster than almost anything else Cat did to her.   

Cat looked over at her with a raised eyebrow.  “Well? Take care of the front, darling,” she ordered with a little bob of her head.

Kara shifted to position herself in front of Cate, her back to the mirror, but not blocking Cate’s view of it.  She looked at Cate’s beautiful dress, sparkling jewelry, flawless hair and immaculate makeup, and considered carefully what was available to her.  She ran her hands lightly up the unearthly light, silky bronze fabric of Cate’s dress, from her hips, up to her breasts, feeling the material slide past her palms.  Cate closed her eyes and slowly exhaled.  Kara could feel the nipples beneath the fabric grow hard, and then felt her own harden in response.  She stroked the stiff peaks with her fingertips, through the shimmering cloth, careful not to squeeze or crush the fabric.  Cate made a lovely, rich, satisfying sound of approval.  “Lovely,” she murmured softly, “both of you.”

Kara looked up at Cat and saw her lean forward and carefully, slowly, with just the tip of her tongue, lick softly up Cate’s back, from her shoulder blades, up the back of her neck.  

She gave another deep exhale, clearly already aroused at the way they were approaching her.  Her lips parted and for a moment, her eyes closed.  

Kara bent down and, following Cat’s lead, carefully ran the tip of her tongue down the tendon of Cate’s neck, and then up again, following the variations of the resulting sighs.  She moved up and gave the same precise, gentle treatment to the shell of her ear, carefully working around the forty-thousand-dollar diamond earrings she wore.  She was surprised, though she supposed she shouldn’t have been, that diamonds didn’t taste like anything.

“We don’t have much time,” Cat whispered. Kara pulled back, and saw Cate leaning forward, bracing herself against the vanity with one hand.  Kara exchanged a look with Cat, and understood what Cat wanted her to do.  She knelt down, and very gently took the hem of Cate’s gown, and lifted it carefully, trying not to crush it too much.  Cate lifted one foot and placed on the chair in front of the vanity.  Kara glanced at her shoes – bronze Chanels that matched the dress.   _ Well,  _ she thought with a dollop of self-congratulation, _ at least Cat and I are getting to see the shoes.  _

She was gratified to glance up and see that Cate was not troubling herself with nylons this evening, only wearing a slip of black thong underwear that might as well not have been there at all.  In her current position, it was very difficult not to throw discretion to the wind, decide she didn’t care about her makeup, and simply push the little scrap of fabric aside to lick her to orgasm with the quickness of tongue that only she possessed.  Cat looked at her over Cate’s bare shoulder and softly ordered, “I see that look, Kara, and don’t you dare.  You’ll fuck up your lipstick.”

“Maybe I don’t care,” Kara pushed back, brushing her fingertips up the tempting inside of Cate’s thigh.  She ran the tip of her tongue over her teeth, still keeping it inside her mouth.

Cat hesitated.  “Fine,” she said finally.  

Cate’s hand took the folded fabric of the dress from Kara’s hand, while her other hand gripped the edge of the vanity.  Kara took a moment to arrange her dress so that it didn’t get caught or knelt on or stepped on, and then looked up.  With one hand, she supported her slightly awkward crouch, and with the other, she delicately pushed Cate’s underwear aside and held it out of the way, and paused to smile up at her.  

Cate looked down at her beatifically and gave her a quiet nod.  Kara smiled up at her, and then leaned in to taste her.  The moment her tongue made contact, she heard Cate’s delighted little gasp.  She lapped softly at her while Cat held onto Cate’s skirt, Cate held her breath, and they all listened to the footsteps moving back and forth on the hard floors outside the door.  The taste of her brought back memories of Cannes, of her licking that taste off of her fingers while Cat went down on her, of the mild breezes through the open terrace doors of Cat’s suite.  She almost forgot that they were here, in a dressing room at the Dolby Theater, a golden-haired trio in fabulous, luminous evening wear and fuck-me heels, delicately, carefully doing exactly that in front of the vanity lights.  She glanced up and saw that Cat and Cate were both staring into the mirror, enjoying the tableau tremendously.  Kara felt a little stirring of curiosity, but part of her didn’t want to see herself doing the things she was doing.

She saw Cat’s hand slide up the back of Cate’s thigh and then felt Cat’s fingers brush over her own, a gentle, deliberate gesture, before slipping into Cate.  The quiet little whimper that dropped from Cate’s perfectly-painted lips was worth everything; it came from deep in her gut, rode roughshod over the back of her throat, and escaped, small and silent but loaded with the tautness of need for release.  

Kara was still licking her with slow precision.  “Clever, clever girl,” Cate whispered raggedly.  Kara knew that the lovely flush was coming into those alabaster cheeks.  She could hear Cate’s heart banging loud in her chest as she and Cat, growing quicker and more determined, were doing their best to give her the release she needed.  

Cat whispered again, “Kara, darling … we’re running out of time.  Do that thing for her that I like.”

Kara knew what “thing” Cat meant.  Kara’s super-speed, naturally, extended to all of her individual digits and appendages, which necessarily included her tongue.  She didn’t employ it all the time, because it ended things more quickly than she liked, but sometimes when they were in a hurry, or were having the kind of evening where Kara had plans to make Cat come six or seven times, she would use it.  It never failed.

Neither did it fail her now.  She abandoned concern for her own lipstick and allowed her tongue to move with blinding speed across Cate’s stiff, hot clit.  She felt the tension build in Cate’s body, heard Cat whispering something that seemed to be intended only for Cate, but she heard it nonetheless:  “Catie, Catie, you’re so gorgeous, you’re such a lovely human being… This is really the least we can do for you.”

Cate’s body went stiff as stone as she gripped the vanity with both hands, and Kara heard the sounds of the movie star doing her best to strangle a loud moan somewhere deep in her chest, before it could get out.  Kara pulled away and then, in a careful reverse of their beginning, rose up out of her crouch, shook out her dress, and then gently liberated Cate’s dress from Cat’s grasp.  After a moment of hard breathing, Cate sighed, “You ARE talented, Kara.”

Kara beamed at her.  “Feel better?  All relaxed and ready to present?”

“Present!” Cate cried.  “Shit!”  She glanced up at the clock over the vanity.  “Shit!”

A runner knocked on the door outside the room.  “Ms. Blanchett, are you in there?  Everyone’s freaking out looking for you!”

They looked at each other, and said, this time all three of them in unison, “SHIT!”

 


	3. And the winner is ....

The three of them burst out of the dressing room to the sight of the frantic runner with his headset on. She had to get all the way down the stairs, down the Winner’s Walk and around to the other side of the wings on stage right. In about a minute. It was asking a lot.

Cat and Kara exchanged a quick, nervous glance. Cat gave Kara a pointed look. Kara gave her a pained one in return. They were about to break their unspoken agreement, but they had no choice. It was one thing to keep secrets for their own reasons, but they couldn’t tolerate Cate having to be embarrassed on national television because they couldn’t get it together. Kara gave her a very Cat-like eyeroll indicating her acquiescence.

“Cate,” she said, placing her arms around Cate’s waist. “A quick hug for luck.”

Cate was gobsmacked and panicked.

Cat tapped the runner on the shoulder and pointed behind him. “What the hell is that?” she demanded loudly. He turned to look behind him.

A moment later, the runner was looking around bewildered, calling out, “Ms. Blanchett?” He looked at Cat. “Did you see which way she went?”

Cat pointed down the stairs. “That way. She’s on her way down to stage right.”

Meanwhile, downstairs, in the wings behind stage right, Cate found herself standing in Kara’s arms, looking around in the half-dark, slightly disoriented. She looked up and her eyes locked with Kara’s as a little grin spread across her lips. “I knew it.”

Kara shrugged with a nervous little smile.

Cate reached up and brushed her fingertips over Kara’s clustered pearl earrings. “I knew these earrings weren’t Piaget,” she said with a teasing smile. “You didn’t fuck up my hair with that maneuver, did you?”

Kara shook her head. Cate’s hair was, unbelievably, flawless. A runner came over as they parted, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, Ms. Blanchett thank GOD, everyone was freaking out…. You’re up.”

Cate sashayed onto the stage, splendid, gorgeous and as self possessed as Kara had ever seen her. As she leaned forward onto the podium and began reading off of the teleprompter, Kara’s super-hearing picked up two stagehands on the other side of the stage whispering to each other.

“Unbelievable. She showed up five seconds before she had to make her entrance and she looks completely and totally relaxed.”

“Seriously. Look how loose her shoulders are. She looks like she just got done fucking.”

Kara needed every ounce of restraint she had in her not to howl with laughter.

 

****

  
Cat showed up about six minutes later and they made their way back to their seats. Cat looked Kara up and down, smoothed her skirt a little, adjusted the necklace she was wearing. “Better.” She paused. “You didn’t fuck up her hair, did you?”

Kara huffed. “No. What is it with you two? I know how to…” She bit the rest of her comment back.

“Know how to what?” Cat replied archly, raising one perfect eyebrow. Kara said nothing. “Mm. That’s what I thought. Come on, let’s go.”

They made their way back to their seats and sat through a couple more musical performances including Sam Smith, which Kara was more enthused about than Cat (“He needs a damn haircut that doesn’t make his head look like a sneaker.”), and more of Laura Benanti being funny. The awards were getting larger and the tension was becoming palpable. Cate was whispering to Rooney, who seemed even more nervous than Cate did. Kara felt badly that Rooney didn’t seem to have anyone to “relax” her the way Cate had her and Cat. She felt for her even more when she didn’t win in her category, Best Supporting Actress. “That stinks,” she grumbled to Cat. “Her performance was subtle but it was really good.”

“The Academy doesn’t really do subtle,” Cat rejoined.

Finally, Best Actress was announced. Harrison Ford got up and gave a lovely introduction to the category. Kara glanced over at Cat, whose eyes were fixed on the stage and whose gleeful face looked about as as girlish as Kara had ever seen it. “Harrison Ford? Really?”

“Shut it, Kiera,” she snapped, using the mangled version of her name that did when she was needling her about something. “Han Solo was my go-to for years.”

Kara gave her an incredulous look.

“What?” Cat demanded irritably. “It’s not just me. Every woman over forty.”

“You’re not over forty,” Kara reminded her with a smirk. “You’re thirty nine. Again.”

“Right,” Cat answered dismissively.

Wow, Kara thought, usually a little dig like that would have earned her a cutting remark in reply. But not now.

“And the Oscar goes to….. Cate Blanchett, in Carol!”

They watched her get up and make her way to the stage, passing by the director of the film, and the author of the book upon which it was based, and a few other actors and people involved in the film. She was utterly graceful as she ascended the steps – no J. Law-inspired wipeouts this evening. She came to Harrison Ford and took the large bronze statuette from him, cradling it gently. Harrison gave her a peck on the air next to her cheek, which Kara noticed Cat frowning at a little, although it wasn’t clear who she was jealous of.

Cate took the mic, giving the crowd and the cameras that dazzling smile, that thousand mega-watt smile that put the searchlights in front of the theater to shame. She thanked the audience and the Academy. She thanked Todd Haynes and the cast and crew of the film. “And perhaps most of all, I’d like to thank my lovely co-star, Rooney Mara, who breathed life into Therese Belivet and made it so easy for me to do my job and fall in love with her. Rooney, darling, won’t you come up on stage with me, please?” A flustered Rooney picked her way out of her row and made her way up to the stage, and took a place at Cate’s side as she spoke.

“The industry is slowly beginning to understand that films led by women DO sell, and now the next frontier is LGBT-led films, which I’m so proud to have been a part of. This was a beautiful love story and I just want to take a moment to point out that despite the limitations of the Academy’s categories, Rooney was as much a lead in this film as I was, if not more so; if she were a man, she’d have been nominated for Best Actor. This award belongs to her as much as it does me.”

Rooney was tearing up next to her. The crowd was applauding wildly.

The music began softly playing behind her as she tried to quickly finish everything she had to say before she got played off the stage. “So a last thought, I want to thank my management, I want to thank my family and everyone who made it possible for me to be here on this stage tonight, and I’m looking forward to going home, getting out of this bloody gown, and curling up to share a hero sandwich with my cat.”

  
*****

  
Cat and Kara impatiently attended an after-party at a W Hotel around the corner from the theater. Kara was numbed by this point to the celebrity star power in the room and just wanted to go back to Cate’s place and make good on those last words in her speech. They amused themselves by drinking a little more while watching Cate work the room, and trying to one-up each other with describing ways they were going to congratulate her later. This was both incredibly arousing and terribly ill-advised, as it did little to quell their impatience to leave the party.

At long last, they found themselves in the limo, heading back to Cate’s relatively modest place that she kept in Hollywood Hills, seated on either side of her in the back and giving zero fucks about keeping their lipstick intact. By the time they’d gotten to that point, they’d managed to work themselves into such a state that they were both going at Cate’s neck hungrily, leaving lipstick smears and bite marks and not bringing themselves to care much whether the driver could hear the racket of her moaning or not.

Drunk and precarious on their killer heels (except Kara who was just perhaps overly excited), they managed to tumble through the door and into the wide, breezy foyer. “We’ve been waiting all evening to do this properly, haven’t we Kara, dear?” Cat purred, relieving Cate of her wrap and wasting no time in gently tugging the zipper down her back.

“Why yes, Cat, we have,” Kara answered, her voice taking on a tone that was both hungry and playful at once. She would never be over the fact that, once in awhile, she and her “whatever” got to go to bed with this mind-bogglingly, inhumanly gorgeous woman who had been the subject of her fantasies since she was a teenager, and that yes, she was every bit what Kara had imagined.

Together, they stripped Cate down to her lingerie, kissing and nibbling at her skin as they exposed it. “We were arguing at the party, you know,” Cat sighed in Cate’s ear, “about which of us was going to be… congratulating you more times.”

“Oh, were you,” Cate purred, fiddling with Kara’s shoulder strap. “Well, you know, it’s important for a couple to have someone they like to do together.”

Kara and Cat exchanged a look that Kara couldn’t quite read, but said nothing.

Kara carefully laid the gown on a divan against the wall and, taking the hint, slipped out of her own dress and heels. She turned back to find Cate, in the black lingerie and the heels she’d still not kicked off, and Cat behind her, still in her evening wear, fondling her through the lacy fabric.

That moment alone would have made the entire weekend worth it.

She slid back over to them, in her lingerie, and looked at Cat. “Miss Grant, you have too many clothes on.”

Cat’s eyebrow quirked in acknowledgment. “So I do, Miss Danvers.” She stepped away and came around in front of Cate. “I’ll need some help with my zipper.”

“Kara, darling, give her a hand, won’t you?” Cate suggested helpfully.

Cat turned her back to Kara and began kissing Cate’s mouth while Kara unzipped her and gently peeled her out of her dress, and laid it aside. She let them enjoy each other for a moment as she sauntered into the kitchen and saw the bucket of ice with the bottle of Veuve Cliquot sticking out of it that the maid had left on the countertop. She popped it and brought it back out to the living room, where Cat and Cate were still kissing hotly against the wall.

“I found this,” she announced.

They looked over at her with twin feline grins.

“Bring it here,” Cate commanded.

Kara came over with the open bottle.

“I don’t suppose you brought glasses,” Cat asked hopefully.

Cate’s smile was positively maniacal. “We don’t need them.”

Cat’s smile mirrored it as she understood Cate’s meaning. She took the bottle from Kara and took a sip right from it. “Kara, darling, let’s get rid of Cate’s bra?”

“Of course.” Kara slid her hands behind Cate’s back and unhooked her bra, laying the black lace over the back of the nearest chair.

“Now,” Cate said, “Cat is going to show you a new trick, aren’t you, Cat?”

Kara watched with anticipation, her heart banging in her chest. Cat handed the bottle to Cate, then shifted and bent down, so that her mouth was level with one of her exposed breasts. Cate carefully took the bottle, brought the mouth of it up to her shoulder, and slowly tilted it so that a thin trickle of cold champagne ran down her shoulder, down her breast, over her taut nipple and into Cat’s mouth. Cate softly moaned her approval as Cat’s tongue moved over and around it, catching every drop. Kara almost moaned out loud herself.

When the stream of champagne stopped, Cat slowly straightened up, licking the trail that ran up to Cate’s shoulder, then turned around and glanced back at Kara. “Kara, dear, would you like some champagne?”

Kara nodded, mute, and came closer. She slid herself up against Cate’s body, placed her hands against the backs of her thighs, and then lifted her. Cate gave out a little surprised, “Oh!” and then wrapped her legs around Kara’s waist. Cat took the bottle from Cate and moved around behind Kara. Kara thrilled at having Cate’s breasts at eye level, and closed her lips around a nipple. Cate’s arms wound themselves around her shoulders and her fingers reached into Kara’s hair to free it from its pins. She felt it tumble down her back. She felt Cat press up behind her, saw her arm come around, and saw her hand reach upwards and gently pour the champagne down Cate’s shoulder again, the same thin, cold, sparkling stream that ran down her chest, over her nipple and into Kara’s mouth. She felt Cate’s body arching into hers. She felt herself getting wet. Well, wetter.

Cat moved around to the other side, behind Cate. Kara felt Cat’s hand brush against her own, that same brief, deliberate little show of affection that she’d done back in the dressing room, before sliding her fingers into Cate and beginning to slowly pump in and out. Kara felt Cate stiffen in her arms and enjoyed the wonderful, low-pitched whimpers of pleasure that this elicited. Cat continued to pour the cold champagne over Cate’s shoulder, but she was becoming more wanton about it now. It was less a trickle and more a full-blown stream, faster than Kara could drink it, much of it missing her mouth entirely, and Cate’s entire chest glistened with it. It was running down in between her and Kara’s bodies, where it was excitingly, shocking cold until it was warmed by their heat.

At one point, Cat peered around Cate’s shoulder at Kara, and they made eye contact, and they grinned at each other. Kara knew that even though they weren’t calling it a “thing”, that she’d feel jealous of Cat doing to anyone else what she was doing to Cate right now. Cate was special. She had a place with them that nobody else seemed to. Cate was something they enjoyed doing together. Damn, she’s right again, Kara thought with a smile.

Cat gently dropped the spent champagne bottle on the floor, and her other hand reached around, her fingers slipping down between Kara’s legs, and started rubbing her clit softly through the fabric of her lacy underwear.

Kara groaned both in pleasure and frustration. “Cat, don’t... I don’t want to drop her….”

“But you’re so strong,” Cat protested in that velvety tone that could make Kara do just about anything. “I know you’re strong enough to keep holding her while I do this.”

Kara, with new determination, took as much of Cate’s breast into her mouth as she could, sucking at it furiously in order to try to hold out against the hot friction of Cat’s touch. She tried very hard not to think about the fact that Cat was having her way with the both of them simultaneously because while she knew that Cat was absolutely that much woman, she’d probably go to pieces if she dwelled too much on it. Cate, of course fully taking in the extent of everything happening around her, gripped Kara’s head and held it to her breast tightly, her hips rocking against Cat’s fingers.

“Oh, very good, Catie, that’s it,” Cat was purring. “Come for me like the fucking winner you are, darling.”

The whole thing was making Kara weak but she gripped Cate more tightly and stayed on her feet.

“And Kara, you’re so strong, you’re doing such a good job of holding onto her.”

“Yes,” Cate agreed breathlessly, “so strong.”

And then a moment later, she shattered, coming in hard waves, holding onto Kara for dear life, as Kara stood there, sweating, trying not to come undone herself with Cat’s fingers stroking her.

Cat stopped touching her long enough for Cate to unfold her legs and Kara to let her slip down to her feet again. Cate was giving Kara a ravenous look. “What’s it like?” she whispered.

Kara looked uncertain. “What’s what like?”

“What’s it like to be that strong?”

Kara blushed and squirmed a little.

“Yes, Kara, I’ve been wondering that, too,” Cat interjected pointedly.

Kara hesitated for a moment, but what was the point leaving it unspoken? They both knew, and they’d really passed the point of politeness the moment Kara had used her super-speed to sweep Cate down to the stage in time to present. “Do you want to know?”

Cate nodded slowly. “Very much.”

Kara gave her a little smile. “I’ll show you.”

Cat and Cate both gave her matching quizzical looks.

She crooked her finger at Cate, and said, “Here, pick me up.”

Cate looked at her as if she were mad. “Honestly?”

Kara nodded. “Just trust me. Pick me up like you’re going to whisk me off to your bed. Trust that I’ll be light enough.”

Cat and Cate looked at each other with amused bewilderment, but Cate stepped forward, put an arm around Kara’s shoulders and leaned down to hook the other arm behind her thighs, and paused, looking at her face. “This way?”

Kara nodded. “Go ahead,” she assured her, laughing a little.

She felt Cate begin to push up, trying to lift her. Kara carefully engaged her floating abilities, just enough that Cate would be able to easily lift her but would still feel her weight a little bit. She monitored her resistance against gravity and its balance against Cate’s hold. She’d never have tried this with Cat, but they were free now. Cate had been the catalyst for opening up this obvious but undiscussed part of their relationship, and now it seemed so pointless that they’d been operating that way for so long. Looking at the wonderment and barely contained laughter on both of their faces, she couldn’t believe they’d held back with any of it.

Cate held her, admiring her, and walked down the hall toward the full length mirror at the end of it. She’d never seen herself like this, and Cate and Cat both seemed tickled to no end.

“Catie, you Amazon,” Cat purred.

“Would you like to try?”

Cat nodded enthusiastically. Cate gently passed her into Cat’s arms, almost seeming to have forgotten that she wasn’t actually supporting Kara’s weight. Kara looked up into Cat’s face, and she was smiling down at her in a way she hadn’t seen before.

“We should have talked about this before,” Cat whispered.

“Yeah,” Kara agreed softly.

They shared a long look that told Kara that something new was happening. And once again, they owed it to Cate.

Cate, standing beside them, looking as though she’d swallowed a canary and was quite pleased with herself about it, clapped her hands imperiously. “Come now, Cat. This fucking winner wants to watch you two fuck in her enormous bed overlooking the Hollywood Hills.”

Cat and Kara looked at her, pleased beyond measure.

She sauntered, naked and confident, down the hall toward the bedroom. “It’s so important,” she added over her shoulder, “for couples to find someone they like to do together.”

“What?” Cat and Kara demanded in unison.

“Something they like to do together,” Cate said again, tossing them a naughty wink. “Now come on. Chop chop,” she added.

Cat carried Kara toward the bedroom.

“She called us a couple again,” Kara whispered.

Cat nodded. “She did.”

“Are we?”

Cat leaned her head down as she walked, “carrying” Kara in her arms toward the bedroom, and kissed Kara’s neck. “We have been for a long time,” she murmured quietly.

Kara sighed a sweet, happy sigh.

They had a lot to discuss. But it would be for tomorrow. The night was fading and there was still so much sinning left to be done.


End file.
